I am an Egyptian American man in my 60s. On a trip home five years ago, I met an Egyptian man much younger than me. We fell in love and decided to marry so we could be together in an open and free society. I applied for him to come to the United States as my fiancé. Two months later, the pandemic hit. Everything was closed, and his visa processing at the U.S. Embassy in Cairo was put on hold. We spent over two years just waiting, not knowing when this situation will be resolved. During that time, I traveled to Egypt every four to six months so we could be together.
Over the past year, our relationship has gradually deteriorated, culminating in his texting me, two months ago, that he is not sure if we are good for each other. Then, finally, the visa was approved. Now we have four months to decide if we should proceed with our marriage plans. He now says he wants to be together. I am hesitant. My level of trust in him has diminished, because when times were rough, he did not keep faith in our relationship.
I still love him. He also says he loves me. I don’t question that. But I am afraid that his love is situational and not solid. I never wanted to marry until I met him. I think of him as my life partner. Now this feeling has been challenged. Do you have any ethical insight that can help me decide? — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
Many readers will immediately wonder whether this man truly loves you or whether he’s simply drawn to the better life you represent. The per capita gross national income in Egypt is a fraction of America’s, and the situation there for gay men, in particular, is pretty bad. (Human Rights Watch has reports of entrapment, arbitrary arrest and police maltreatment of L.G.B.T.Q. people, sometimes using private information found on computers or cellphones.) So he has plenty of reasons to want to get out of Egypt. Either he loves you for you or he wants a better life. Which is it?
That either-or captures our usual common sense and has the comfort of simplicity. But then I think of the most celebrated “marriage plot” novel of English literature, Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice.” Why does Elizabeth Bennet love Mr. Darcy? His wealth doesn’t clinch the deal; she turns down his first proposal. Yet it’s far from irrelevant. There is a scene in which she visits his house and grounds (in his absence, as she imagines) and is bowled over by its grandeur and graciousness. Austen makes it plain that Eliza wouldn’t marry him just for his wealth and that she wouldn’t marry him without it. In Austen’s world, it’s part of what makes him lovable.
Your case presents various further complications. Ideally, you would spend real time together and try to figure out whether you’re ready to be life partners. The vagaries of U.S. immigration laws mean that you have to decide what to do over the next few months. So you’ve got to interpret some confusing signals. On the one hand, your fiancé’s earlier hesitations could indicate that his feelings are fickle; on the other, why would someone who was simply desperate to get out of Egypt undermine his chances in that way?
In the best scenario, you have indeed found a partner for life, with whom you share important cultural ties. In a bad scenario, the marriage won’t work out, as marriages frequently don’t, which will exact a serious emotional and financial toll. (A 2014 analysis found higher divorce rates among marriages with large age gaps.) In the worst scenario, you’ll have passed on what may turn out to be — given that this is the first time you have contemplated marriage in all your adult life — your best chance at lasting love.
I wish I could offer you some simple heuristic. Gilbert Ryle, who was among the most probing philosophers of the past century, was impressed that Jane Austen’s moral approach was, in his terms, Aristotelian rather than Calvinist — that her characters weren’t divided into saints and sinners but instead mixed vices and virtues in various proportions. In the same way, Austen thought that relationships could be amalgams of all sorts of things; they could be transactional and transporting. What’s in this man’s heart? Possibly a complicated mixture of emotions and motives. But that doesn’t settle the matter. In the end, it’s your own heart you’ll have to consult.
Readers Respond
The previous column’s question was from a reader who recently moved to Biloxi, Miss., and wondered whether it was morally acceptable to visit Beauvoir, the historical home of Jefferson Davis. The reader wrote: “My problem is that the site charges an admission fee. The property is owned by the Mississippi division of the Sons of Confederate Veterans, and while I presume some of the money would go to the upkeep of this historical site, I don’t know what they do with the rest of their money. … Is it ethical to pay an admission fee and visit this historical site?”
In his response, the Ethicist noted: “I share your doubts about whether the S.C.V. merits your support. For what it’s worth, though, my bet is that Beauvoir isn’t generating money for the Sons of Confederate Veterans or any of its divisions. Its tax returns over the past several years show sizable annual operating losses. ‘Admissions’ represents less than half of its revenue; $100,000 a year comes from the Mississippi State Legislature. This is no cash cow. And we can surely benefit by visiting and studying the homes of people who were living in serious moral error — even if the managers and the guides sometimes appear oblivious to it. Majestic places like Beauvoir were sustained by the unpaid labor of unfree workers. The name Beauvoir means ‘beautiful to view’; if you visit, you might remind the guides that a full appreciation of the site requires taking in the ugliness too.” (Reread the full question and answer here.)
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I was thoroughly pleased by the Ethicist’s response to this question. I applaud his deep dive into what the actual consequences might be for visiting Jefferson Davis’s home. Thank you for this research and careful attention to detail. — Sheryle
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It should be irrelevant that Beauvoir is generating a loss to the Sons of Confederate Veterans. Any visitor to the house is reducing this loss and allowing the Sons of Confederate Veterans to redirect their funds toward more odious activities. — Daniel
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There are thousands of places where you can stand and marvel at the simultaneous beauty and horror of a historical site without supporting a racist organization. Donate the money you would spend at Beauvoir to an organization that is dedicated to dismantling racial inequity or that honestly educates about slavery. — Stephanie
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What struck me in the Ethicist’s response was that the State of Mississippi is using the tax dollars of the state’s residents (including the descendants of former enslaved Mississippians) to keep this establishment afloat. The letter writer should demand of the state that if their tax dollars are going to support Beauvoir, its full and accurate history should be presented to the public. — Linda
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There is only one antebellum home worth visiting: the Whitney Plantation in Wallace, La., which is only about a 2.5-hour drive from Biloxi. Everything presented at Whitney is about slavery. Everything. It is not a paean to the Confederacy like nearly every other plantation home. — Mary
